Everybody's Fool
by Yami-no-Tamashii
Summary: Yugi is top student of Domino High, who has an extremely low opinion of celebs and their stuck up personas. But when Yami Atemu, aspiring teen model, is transferred to Yugi's school, the latter is about to find out that not all stars enjoy the spotlight.
1. Chapter 1

**Darkie: **_-gulps and pulls at her collar nervously- _Uh...hi?

**Bakura: **_-is absolutely livid-_'Hi'?! THAT'S ALL YOU CAN SAY AFTER DISAPPEARING FOR OVER A MONTH?!?! And instead of posting chapter five of _Barred Windows,_ you stead decide to post a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FIC?!?! AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS 'HI'?!?!

**Darkie: **EEK! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! /cries/ I'll post chapter five today too, I promise! TT_TT

**Ryou: **Stop terrorizing the authoress, Bakura.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own nothing. Not even the quote I used at the end of the chapter. My English Lit. teacher got that from some 'anonymous' person and forced us to write about it. I don't even own this damn computer, as my parents so kindly remind me every single day. _-pouts- _

**Note: **The content in this story is not meant to insult models...(though I can't imagine any models would read THIS P.O.S.) but this is written from Yami's point of view. And he hates modeling. So ya. Just clearing that up just in case...

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Prologue

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_I've been a model for as long as I can remember. And, for as long as I can remember, I hated it. I hated everything about it: the clothes, the cameras, the fame, the attention. None of it worked for me. I didn't want attention. I didn't want fame or money or new clothes. I just wanted to be me._

_But my parents thought different. When I was seven they signed me up for a five-year contract at the Tokyo Modeling Agency. I posed for the children's sections in magazines for the local malls, and at the time, it was bearable. I still hated it, true, but it was bearable. Because I was only a kid, they didn't expect much of me. Basically I was being paid to stand there in my stupid clothes and look cute. _

_It got worse as I got older. By the time I hit puberty, I had been signed up for another contract, this time in Osaka. The maids and servants at my parents' new mansion rubbed me down each morning and night with lotions to keep my skin healthy and glowing. Every time I had so much as a pimple, the whole place would go into an uproar, and I wasn't permitted to leave my room until the darn thing went away. I couldn't do anything I wanted to do. I couldn't eat the things normal kids my age ate. No pizza, no doughnuts, no ice cream. I practically lived on fat free yogurt, oatmeal, and raw vegetables for the next three years of my life._

_Once I entered my teens, everything changed drastically. At the young age of fourteen, I was modeling as many hours as an adult model, and already fairly well-known throughout my age group. I was home-schooled by a private tutor my parents had hired. The only friends I ever had were two fellow models who hated the job as much as I did. Bakura and Marik were the only people who kept me sane throughout my career, and for that I'm grateful, even if they are pain in the asses sometimes. _

_I was fifteen and modeling in Domino when it happened. My parents died in a car crash. I was left all alone in that big house over the way. I took a break from modeling then, and the agency let me, figuring that I needed time to grieve for my loss. But I wasn't grieving. When I heard that my parents had died, I had felt a strange sense of guilty relief. They couldn't control my life anymore. I couldn't even bring myself to cry at their funeral. I took the break because I thought I could use the time to rethink my life. I thought that perhaps I could quit modeling, go to a public school, and be a normal teenager._

_But I was wrong. After a while I realized that I could never be normal. I didn't know how to act around normal people. The first time I enrolled in a school, I was gawked at by practically everybody. I wasn't used to the work I was required to do, having never had to do any before. People wouldn't treat me like a normal person. I was practically worshipped like a god; even the teachers showed favoritism by giving me less work than I was supposed to have. _

_That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to be _normal_, not to be sucked-up to by adults and students alike. I dropped out of the school after a couple of weeks, finally facing the truth. Modeling was the only life I had ever known. A life I couldn't escape._

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Chapter 1

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_Click. Click. Flash. Click._

The handsome young man shifted his position for every flash and every click of the camera. He molded his perfectly sculpted face into a seductive pout, his eyes half-lidded and sultry. For the last shoot, he leaned against a shiny black motorcycle, helmet under one arm, wearing nothing but a pair of motorcycle boots over skin tight leather pants.

Finally, the director ended the shoot. The photographers bustled about, comparing photos and picking out the ones that were best to display in whatever magazine they represented. As for the model himself, well, he was rushed away by his agent to yet another shoot for another magazine.

Such was the life of a model.

Everybody in the industry at Domino was stuck up and slutty. The male models dumped three girlfriends at a time. The female models did anything to get laid. And practically all of them were underweight and eating oatmeal every day three times a day.

But that didn't matter to the rest of the population. As far as they were concerned, everybody they saw on TV or in the magazines were perfect, natural beauties, who were _perfect by nature_ and had perfect lives; who were lovely, charming people looking for a lasting, meaningful relationship.

Psh. Yeah, right.

Nobody in the modeling world was like that. Ninety-nine percent of them had gotten cosmetic surgery at least twice in their lives, and a large percentage of them were also anorexic or bulimic or had some type of eating disorder. They over-exercised, they were skinny, and they were underweight. Everything about them was unnatural, plastic…fake...simply _icons of self-indulgence._

But nobody else needed to know that, right?

It didn't matter that the industry was lying to the world. It didn't matter that half the products they sold didn't even work. They were getting paid practically just for telling the people what they wanted to hear, whether it was true or not. After all, let's face it. People don't _want_ to be told that there's no cure for their underage wrinkles. People don't want to be told that the premature losing of their hair couldn't be helped.

And if the people don't want to be told this, well, who were the fashion industry to deny them? Instead, they mixed up ridiculous lotions, claiming that they helped stretch the skin, or moisturize it, whatever comes first. They claimed that _this_ product would stimulate hair growth, and _that_ product would erase black heads and warts. And the public, well, they didn't care if the thing was actually made up of horse shit. They took it anyway. Why? It's all the matter of who's advertising them. The divas of the fashion industry, celeb actors and actresses, and singers, are all in those commercials, being paid for a bit of manipulation of the public. The people actually believed that by using that product, perhaps they could become as beautiful and perfect as their idols.

Seriously, how twisted is that?

That's what Yami Atemu thought, at least. But it wasn't as if he wasn't slightly biased. At the age of 17, the young man was at the height of his career. Famous throughout at least fifteen countries around the world, the youth had starred in cosmetic commercials, billboard ads, fashion magazines, and even the occasional reality television show. The boy was making millions all for himself. No parents, no grandparents…the orphan had millions of dollars to his own disposal. Millions of dollars which he kept locked up in the bank, only withdrawing microscopic amounts of it at a time.

As he got into his limo, his agent following after him, he stared at his schedule in irritation. Four more shoots to go to, all in three hours. Would this never end? His agent seemed to sense his frustration, and snickered.

"You've gone through much worse before, Yami. Don't chicken out now."

Yami shot a red-hot glare at his agent.

"Like _you_ would know, Seto! You're basically getting paid to tell me what to do! And you're supposed to be working _for_ me!" he retorted.

Seto simply shook his head exasperatedly. He was used to this kind of attitude from his charge. And from what he had heard of Yami's life, it was no wonder the teen despised modeling so much. Seto even felt slightly sorry for the guy, unable to quit doing what he hated the most because he didn't know any other life.

But it was hard to feel sorry for someone who did his best to annoy the heck out of you twenty-four seven.

* * *

_What._

_The._

_FUCK?!_

That was precisely what was going through Yami's mind as he looked at the document in his hands. These people wanted him to star in a PORNO? Like _that_ would ever happen! Yami crumpled up the paper angrily and threw it onto the growing pile in the wastebasket. Across the desk, Seto stared at him in amusement.

"You know, you should really consider one of those. You'd make millions," he said teasingly. Yami glared at him.

"Not. Funny," he hissed through clenched teeth. "They KNOW that I'm famous for being one of the only models in Japan who will never. Bare. All. In front of the camera. What makes them think that I'll star in a fucking PORN VIDEO?!" (1)

"Keep your lid on," Seto replied easily. "I was just teasing. After all, a VIRGIN model? And a male one at that? It's almost unheard of." Seto's eyes twinkled as a vein pulsed in Yami's temple. He calmly handed the ready-to-burst teen another document. "What about this one? They want you for a commercial for some product that strengthens hair."

"Psh," was Yami's only reply as he read over the document. Strengthens hair? Puh-lease. _Just what we all need_, he thought wryly. _More lies…_

Seto handed him another document, which Yami ripped to shreds after reading just the first two sentences. Garnet-colored orbs glared at his cousin in frustration.

"For the last time: I WON'T DO NUDE SHOTS!"

Seto's laugh rang in the irate models ears. Though Yami knew the man was only fooling around with him, that didn't stop his right eye from giving an irritated twitch. Sighing in frustration, the model left the office, heading down the surprisingly plain hallway.

After the death of his parents, Yami had made sure to remodel the entirety of his Victorian style mansion. He basically had the whole thing knocked down and rebuilt into a more modern and high-tech home. On the outside, the house was geometrical and square, painted black, with the window frames painted a dark blood red. The roof was a snowy white. Needless to say, the architects and builders were mortified by Yami's color choice. Even more amazing was the interior of the gothic-looking home. The whole inside was pure white, with black and red furniture scattered throughout the mansion. None of the furniture was fancy, but they _did_ have a certain techno quality to them.

As Yami entered the bathroom, which could hardly be called a bathroom, it was so big, he quickly prepared himself a bath. Yet another unusual quality about the house was simply its emptiness. There were no maids, no butlers, no cooks bustling about like such a large house would imply. The seventeen-year-old star was basically all alone in this vast manor. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that the media would surely devour him about it, Yami would probably have moved out into a run-down apartment years ago.

Sinking into the Jacuzzi-sized bathtub, the handsome model let out a sigh. The warm water did wonders on his tense muscles, not to mention washing off all of the foundation and make-up caked all over his skin. Submerging himself up to the bottom of his nose, he closed his eyes, thinking about what life would have been like for him if he had never started modeling. No doubt he'd be out at a nightclub partying and laughing with his classmates, who he would have known since primary school. He wouldn't be here, sitting in a huge bathtub in an even huger house, thinking about might-have-beens.

Yami shook his head irritably. He couldn't back out now. He had retreated into a depression once before, and that had been the lowest point in his life. He had promised himself never to be that desperate again. Laying his head back against the rim of the tub, his mind drifted to something his grandmother had told him, years ago.

"_Life is like a rainbow. You need the sun and the rain to make the colors appear."_

Sun was good, yes. But without rain, everything would become parched, and there would be no rainbow. That was Yami's simple thinking at the time, when he was only five years old. It took Yami seven long years to finally figure out what his grandmother had meant, and that was only when he was standing on her grave, mourning his loss.

_Life wouldn't be life without both the good and the bad._

So far, Yami considered his life to be filled with bad things. He was practically drowning in floodwater, with rain still pouring down. But he held on. He just had to wait for the sun to come out, and for the rainbow to form. It would come eventually. He just had to be patient.

And Yami had a feeling it would come soon. The next day he woke up feeling unexplainably happy. He even managed to greet a bewildered Seto with a smile and a 'good morning', before hopping into the limo. Still smiling goofily, he rolled down the window and let the breeze blow on his face, all the while looking up at the sun, which was just starting peek out from behind a thick white cloud.

Maybe today…the sun will come out. Yes, perhaps, after today…there will be a rainbow.

* * *

(1) Just wondering...are porn videos legal? They are, right? Wait, there are such thing as porn stars. NEVERMIND!!! xD

**Darkie: **Um...I know it's kind of late...but also this hasn't been beta'd. Everything is all me. Which isn't saying much.

**Yami: **...

**Darkie: **_-edges slowly away from Yami for fear of her life- _Uh...didn't you read the last sentence? The sun will soon come out in the form of YUGI! _-grabs Yugi and holds him in front of her as a shield- -to readers- _Please review and let me know how badly this sucks!

**Yami: **In all my life I have never seen an authoress who seems to ENJOY insulting herself and her own writing...-_-'

**Darkie: **Eh heh...xD


	2. Chapter 2

**Darkie: **_-yawn- _Well, since I updated _Barred Windows_, I might as well post the next chapter of this, too. But don't expect another one after this anytime soon. I want to write at least up to chapter six before posting chapter three (which I've already written along with four). Sorry if this is short, but I'm going for the 'short and quick' fic for this story. Helps my attention span, since it's so short.

**Disclaimer: **Blah. Me no own shit.

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**Chapter 2 – Sunrise**

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Yuugi Mutou straightened his small round specs as he squinted down at the paper in his hands, noting with dissatisfaction the large '99%' written on the top in bright red letters, along with a 'Awesome Job!' sticker. Ninety-nine percent wasn't good enough…it was nowhere NEAR good enough if he wanted a scholarship to Tokyo Uni! He felt a presence behind him as his friend Katsuya Jounouchi stuck his head over Yuugi's shoulder to peek at his grade.

"Ninety-nine percent! Damn, and you're actually _disappointed_, Yuug'?!" he asked incredulously, waving his own eighty-five percent paper in front of his friend's face. "One percent off isn't gonna interfere with yer chances of making valedictorian, you know."

"I know, Jou," Yuugi sighed, tucking the paper away in his binder. Jou, however, wasn't listening, instead choosing to continue ranting about Yugi's perfectionism.

"I mean, seriously, what's one percent off out of about a million other one hundred percents? It's not like they're gonna count that against you or anything!" he lectured, gesturing wildly with his free hand as he and Yuugi made their way down the crowded hallway. As they reached their next classroom, Yuugi stopped and turned to smile kindly at his friend.

"I guess you're right, Jou," he said. "I'm probably overreacting. But you know Grandpa can't afford to send me to Tokyo University on a budget; I'll have to receive a scholarship if I want to have hopes of staying for over one semester. I want to do the best I can, and I _know_ I wouldn't have missed that question if I had studied properly."

"Yeah, like eight hours of studying is really _that_ much of a difference from ten hours," Jou replied sarcastically. "But I still think you should be glad at receiving the best grade in the class…AGAIN." He put Yuugi in a loose headlock and gave the shorter boy a noogie, the latter giggling adorably as he feebly tried to wriggle free.

"Boys! Are you coming in anytime soon?" the teacher called from inside the classroom. Both Yuugi and Jou immediately snapped to attention, and shot each other a quick glance and a smile before entering the classroom.

* * *

Yami walked down the plain white halls of the Domino Modeling Co. Headquarters, his eyes glued to a floor plan map that he had received at the front desk. Apparently he had an appointment with a 'Mr. Crawford'. Yami's stomach did a somersault. Pegasus J. Crawford was none other than the CEO of DM Co. Known for his passion for photography and all things beautiful, the man was a fashion icon to many. Although Yami had heard that he was rather, er, eccentric.

Finally, he came to a plain white door, the only thing decorating it being a five-foot-tall poster of what appeared to be 'Funny Bunny', a popular American cartoon. Feeling even more apprehensive, Yami raised a tanned hand to knock three times on the door in quick succession. A 'come in' was heard, and the model let himself into the office.

Every bare surface in the large office was covered in magazine clips, 'Funny Bunny' comics, and the occasional framed photograph of a happy couple standing in some sort of exotic place. And at the desk of course, sat none other than Pegasus J. Crawford.

Pegasus was a tall and lean man, with long shoulder-length silver hair that fell over his right eye, hiding it from view. He was dressed rather lavishly in a red button-down jacket with matching red slacks. In one hand was a 'Funny Bunny' comic book, and in the other a glass of red wine.

"Come in, come in! You must be the famous Yami Atemu! I'd recognize that handsome face of yours anywhere!" he greeted graciously, beckoning the teen to sit in a cushiony chair in front of the desk. Yami sat down hesitantly, still unsure of what to make of the man before him. Though he was the CEO of the company Yami worked for, the young man had never actually met the multi-billionaire, despite the fact that he was one of the highest-paid models in the industry.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Crawford?" he asked, clutching his hands together in his lap nervously. Pegasus set down the comic book and took a sip from his glass, nodding.

"Yes, yes, Yami-boy," he confirmed. Yami found that he didn't quite like how Pegasus referred to him as 'boy'. He was seventeen, dammit, even if he was short!

"So…" Yami trailed off. Pegasus seemed to snap back into reality, suddenly becoming very businesslike.

"Yami-boy, I have had concerns regarding your education," he said briskly, rifling through some of the papers on his desk. "Or rather, shall I say, lack thereof."

Yami's face went blank. Education? He had never really thought about it before, having been home-schooled most of his life. However, now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen his tutor in a while, since his schedule was so packed. The fact that Pegasus was concerned about this, however, puzzled him.

"What of it?" he asked warily. Pegasus took another sip of his wine, before continuing.

"The directors believe that you should not continue your modeling career without a proper education. They ask that you at least receive a high school diploma before you come of age."

Yami remained silent, the words buzzing through his mind. A high school diploma? Did that mean what he thought it meant?

"Therefore, I have discussed this with the board of directors, and we have decided to send you to public school, in order for you to receive the amount of education appropriate for your age," Pegasus finished, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers.

Yami could only stare at his boss in shock. Him? Go to public school? His mind returned to the good feeling he had had earlier in the morning, and he mentally grinned. This was it! This was what he had been waiting for his whole life: a chance to be normal; to do what other teenagers did. The first and foremost thing being, of course, going to school.

"I'd be more than happy to, Mr. Crawford," he replied, trying hard not to sound too much like a three-year-old in a candy store. Pegasus nodded, and Yami was dismissed.

The model made his way quickly down the hall, down the elevator, and out of the front lobby. He followed a stoic Seto to the limo and settled himself down inside, all the while trying to keep his face blank as possible. Finally, Seto popped the big question.

"So, what did Pegasus want to see you for?" he asked cautiously. Yami stared at him emotionlessly, and noted with satisfaction that Seto seemed slightly worried with his behavior. Finally, he let loose, and tackled Seto to the floor of the limo, laughing and repeating the same sentence over and over again:

"I'M GOING TO SCHOOL!"

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**Darkie: **_-looks up from reading _The Sweet Far Thing_ by Libba Bray- _O_O Wow, that must have been the shortest chap I've spit out yet. xD I think I'll keep the notes short for this one. Please review! Toodles! _-waves and poofs away in a puff of smoke-_


	3. Chapter 3

**Darkie: **Well, I think I've kept you all waiting long enough. I know I said I would wait until I'd written more of the story...but guess what? I have made no progress on it whatsoever since the last posting.

_-cricket, cricket- _

**Darkie: **Er...yeah...but I decided against being a bitch and making you wait, so here's the next extremely short chapter with the extremely cliche and cheesy ending! Tata!

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**Chapter 3**

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The next few days were some of the longest of Yamis life. Because of publicity issues, he had not been allowed to go shopping for his school supplies at the mall, instead having to have Seto go do it for him. Needless to say, this frustrated Yami greatly, but he knew it was necessary for his survival. He shuddered. Fangirls could be scary creatures.

The handsome youth glanced at the clock again, only to growl in frustration after finding that it had only been thirty seconds since he last looked at it. Was this never going to end? When was Seto going to get back? It had been literally hours since Seto had left to look for top quality school supplies; there couldn't be that much to buy aside from textbooks! Finally, the doorbell rang, its melodious tone drifting through the house. Yami leapt off the couch as though electrocuted, and sped to the door, wrenching said object open so fast that the hinges groaned in protest.

Seto stood at the doorway, laden with bulky shopping bags and with a sour expression on his face. Apparently he did not like the mall very much. Striding past the model, he stumbled into the living room, before throwing down all the bags onto the sofa, and collapsing on the armchair, palm over his eyes.

Yami paid no heed to his cousin's obvious exhaustion; he was too excited to see what lay inside those bags. Dumping out the contents of one, he gasped as several heavy textbooks came tumbling out, and began rifling through them eagerly. Psychology…Economics…English...Calculus…History…it was all here! Everything he had ever wanted to learn was right here in his hands. Resisting the urge to open up the History book and start reading, he moved on to the next bag.

Out came several sets of school uniforms, which consisted of a blue blazer and pants. The model's mind immediately began picturing what shirt would look good under the jacket, and what accessories would match, before he shook his had irritably. This wasn't the time.

The next bag contained his backpack, which was black with red trim, and with just enough room to house all his books along with a five-subject notebook that Seto had purchased.

"So what do you think? Satisfied?" Seto asked from his place on the armchair, and Yami only nodded vigorously before burying himself in his history book, losing himself in the ancient culture of Egypt. Unseen by him, Seto shook his head and smiled faintly at his cousin's happiness.

* * *

As the day of Yami's very first day at Domino High dawned, the teen model was anything but happy. His palms were sweating copiously, and he kept grinding his teeth together during the car ride. To be more obscure, they (he and Seto), had taken a smaller, less conspicuous car to school. After all, a long black limo in the school parking lot was sure to attract a lot of attention.

But as it turned out, their efforts to blend into the crowd proved futile as they approached the school entrance. They could see the crowd of paparazzi from three blocks away, and Yami's eyes widened in dread as Seto cursed colorfully from behind the wheel. Who had leaked? But Yami supposed it was no surprise; a celebrity's personal life never remained secret for long in these times.

As Yami stepped out of the car, he was immediately bombarded with questions and flashing lights. Half-blinded, he stumbled and pushed his way through the crowd and into the school grounds, where the teachers, who looked visibly stressed, were doing their best to keep the reporters at bay. Flashing them a grateful smile, Yami walked quickly into the tall concrete building that was Domino High School.

He and Seto didn't have to walk far before reaching the principal's office. A quick glance at the secretary was enough to send the young woman bursting into her superior's office, from which she soon returned, blushing and glancing at Yami every once in a while. The principle herself was a beautiful but stern woman, who did not seem to be affected by Yami's appearance, which was something that the boy admired.

"Well well well, you must be Yami Atemu," she said briskly. "Welcome to Domino High. I am the principal here, Nakajiwa-sensei. Here is your schedule and a map of the school grounds. Good luck." With that, she sent him on his way.

After parting ways with Seto in the hallway, Yami quickly made his way through the bustling hallway, trying his best to hide his face behind his schedule, and hoping that his hair didn't stand out _too_ much.

"Yugi!"

Yami felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around in surprise, only to meet a pair of doe-brown eyes framed by locks of silky white hair. He burst out the first word he could think of.

"Bakura?"

But it wasn't Bakura, Yami could now clearly see. This boy had softer features, and his hair lay limp on his head, instead of wickedly spiked up. His eyes were a soft chocolate brown, quite unlike Bakura's cold russet ones. The boy blinked in surprise.

"You're not Yugi," he stated obviously. Yami raised an eyebrow at him, all the while holding his schedule up to block the left side of his face, so that people walking past wouldn't see.

"And you're not Bakura," he stated equally obviously. The Bakura-look-alike blinked.

"Actually, I am," he said. "Ryou Bakura, er, pleased to meet you. I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else." He laughed and scratched the back of his head embarrassedly.

Yami stared at him. This boy had mistaken him for somebody else? As far as he knew, he was the only one with hair so strange.

"Uh…Yami Atemu," he said awkwardly, extending his free hand to shake the other's. Ryou Bakura paused mid-shake. The boy's eyes had widened in surprise, and Yami could almost see what the other was thinking. It was time to take his leave.

"Uh, I think I'll go now. Pleased to meet you!" he said hurriedly, before scampering away and around the next corner. He leaned against the wall for a second, panting. _That was close_, he thought nervously. _Dammit, why did I think going to school would be easy? I'm a nervous wreck!_

"Excuse me? Are you lost?" a soft, melodic voice penetrated his thoughts, and Yami looked down towards the source, startled. His surprise was quickly forgotten, however, as he was met with the most stunning pair of amethyst eyes he had ever seen.

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**Darkie: **I WARNED you it would be cheesy. I must have been sleepy or something when I wrote this. _-shrugs- _Oh well. Please review!


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